


Children

by loosingletters



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Gen, Humanoid innocence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't understand how they could let their precious humans fight for them. Then again, he was a child too. Maybe he wasn't supposed to understand yet.</p>
<p>[In which Crown Clown is a child and Allen his everything.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having some dgm feels rn and idk what to do with them tbh. So uhm. Idk. This is some kinda AU-ish stuff? Like innocent grows with their accommodator. I took this a bit literal and gave Crown Clown the mindset of a child. I have no idea what this is if I'm honest.  
> Update March 2018: Fixed grammar.

"Why do we let humans fight for us?"

The laughter and talking stopped as soon as he spoke up. Everybody had turned to him, the new one in their round. They looked at him in confusion as if they didn't understand his question.

"Why do we let humans fight for us?" He repeated his question, assuming that they just hadn't heard him. After all, nobody ever really listened to children. He had learned that much when it had been just him and his human. Before the circus, before Mana, before Cross, before everybody.

Just him and his human.

The streets had been cold, harsh, unwelcoming. Not a place for them to grow up. Often he had wished he could have protected his human better, but he too had been and still was, young in a way. As innocent and ignorant as he could be. Of course, he knew of their history and the Heart, everybody did, but he still was so much of a child as Judgment had told him.

Apparently, it was unusual for Innocence to actually be a child. Judgment would know, she was ancient and had participated in this was far longer than he had. In the many cold nights spent watching over their charges, she had taken to teaching him. She told him that Innocence sometimes acted like children, appeared like children but they never actually were children.

He had tried his hardest to be more like an adult, more like the other Innocence after that. Judgment had rolled her eyes at his behavior but smiled. Fondly she called him her little kid.

He was sure that she didn't really think of him as a child. He was nothing more than a slightly odd piece of innocent.

Nevertheless, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was meant to be more, to grow up like a human did, like his dear Allen did. He could evolve, he knew he could. After all, every piece of Innocence had the ability to get stronger, but he wanted more.

Whenever he looked at himself - a dirty brat with blood red hair wearing nothing more than an old and patched up grey cloak - he imagined that there was somebody else standing in the mirror. A white angel perhaps with wings big and strong enough to wrap around his human and keep him safe.

His wings would give his human the freedom he wanted, let him go wherever he wanted. When night came, they would wrap themselves around him and keep him warm. When the pain tried to claw out dear Allen's heart, his wings would be a shield.

He wanted to grow up to be just like that angel he saw in the mirror for nothing more than a split-second so he could become strong and protect his wielder. His own dirty cloak was barely enough to keep himself shielded; his human had suffered so much because he had been too weak.

So he had started to wonder.

Why was he so weak?

He couldn't find an answer to that.

And why did they, the Innocence, let even weaker beings fight for them?

The weakest of them too, the children.

On the streets they were always those who had it the worst, the ones who always paid for others' mistakes, the ones always suffering. Children weren't suitable soldiers for their war so why did they keep choosing to fight with them?

"They are our accommodators," Mugen answered him and then went back to polishing her blade.

Mugen was an odd one too. She always seemed so torn. He and his human hadn't been with the order long, but he could tell that there was something wrong with Mugen. She appeared as a young woman in her twenties maybe, and of Asian origin. She wore a dress showing lotuses, her steps were light and she was surrounded by an aura of strength.

But Mugen's blade was rusty. It was weird. How could Innocence be so strong but its chosen weapon so weak and used?

"I know but why do they have to fight?"

The others had gone back to talking, ignoring the conversation of the two.

"Because we would lose otherwise, you stupid brat," she answered him, already sounding annoyed. She was a lot like her accommodator in that way.

"But they are our humans! How can we let them get hurt? I don't want my human to get hurt! He is just a child!"

He was upset, on the verge of crying. It just wasn't fair!

Nobody had asked them if they wanted this after all. He didn't want to fight; he didn't want to hurt. He only wanted peace for his human and him!

"Stop behaving like a little kid," Mugen hissed.

He looked up to see that she stood directly in front of him, anger clearly visible on her face.

"This is war. Humans die, Innocence dies and that's just how it is. You can't change that. You can't decide who lives, who fights and who dies. You can only destroy the enemy and hope all of this will come to an end."

It didn't keep him from crying, only made the tears fall even harder.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this cause I honestly have no idea how to feel about this.


End file.
